Leon's Way (6 page)

“Sure, he beat the living daylights out of me.” I can’t help chuckling. Arriane’s features smoothen with compassion as she brushes over my cheek with her hand. I turn my face into her palm, closing my hand around it and kissing her fingertips one by one.

“Don’t be sad for me. It was a long time ago,” I hum out. “Plus, I learned my lesson and started couch-surfing at my friends’ early.”

Her fingertips run down my middle, caressing my stomach. “Did you start with martial arts to stand up to him?”

“Listen to Miss Psychologist, here,” I tease. “But yes. By sixteen, I was a black belt in Enshin Kaikan—full-contact karate. I broke a clavicle on him after an especially fun night.”

“Oh my God! What happened?”

This is where we’re full circle back to Katsu. I’m not up for this. “Anyways. Long story short,” I sum up, “dude deserves no babying at the hospital by Kat or anyone else.”

“Will he… be okay?” she asks, and her voice is so soft.

“Dunno. Don’t care.” I sit up on my knees. Grab her jaw gently and angle her how I want her. Then, I suck her bottom lip into my mouth.

Her breath freezes. I should stop mixing pleasure and work, quit corrupting this sweet woman, but after my first taste on New Year’s Eve, I’ve been wanting her.

Arriane’s arms hang along her sides. They aren’t rising to pull me in. She kisses me back, though, which is what I need.

“Baby, you want to play again?” I stroke her tongue with mine.

“We should talk about Tooth Fairy Day,” she whispers against my lips.

“Or I could fuck you first,” I murmur, and she’s not in shock like the last time I called sex by its true name.

“I think you ‘fucked’ me good the first time, boss,” she blurts out.

I have an odd sensation in my gut when I pull away to study her. One reason for my success in business is my ability to read expressions and body language. Arriane’s are mixed. She radiates attraction and willingness, but frustration too. The anger that’s been surfacing lately flares in her eyes again.

“Arriane. What the hell do you mean?” I’m back to demanding answers instead of asking for them, my tone plummeting on the last word.

I drill my stare into her. She’s been secretive lately. This better not be one of those moments. I push away the nagging thought at the back of my mind; I won’t be making guesses.

“You’re going to explain to me exactly why you said that. From what I saw, you enjoyed me fucking you just fine.”

I wonder if my foul mouth finally got to her physically, because the golden hue of her face pales. She sits up straighter in the chair, eyes roaming for the exit and planning her escape. “I—just… let’s not be that intimate again, Leon.”

“Why not?” I ask while my conscience slams a scrawny fist into the table, agreeing with Arriane. Commanding me to shut up. I never was much for obedience.

I’m actually hurt over this. Pussy. “What’s the difference—you want to stick with public fingering, honey? Maybe suck my dick instead, because none of that’s sex.”

Pissed at myself, I take a step back, straighten, and glare down at her sweet face. “Or hey—you prefer to sample a variety?” I barrel on. “Got your eyes on some prick at the club or something?”

Shit! Ah.

Her eyes deepen into lavender when they snap back to mine, meeting me wrath for wrath. “No. I don’t mix and match, asshole. You won’t see me as much as looking at another man for seven and a half months.”

Arriane has stunned me into silence. No one stuns me into silence.

If lavender could boil, that’s what her irises would do right now as they absorb every shrivel of my shock.

“Yes, Leon,” she says. “I won’t be
fucking
anyone. At all.”

The man I love stares at me, incredulous. I inhale a long breath for what’s to come. His fury. The denial. Rejection.

I grew up in a family where fairness ruled. I’m practical, grounded, capable of comprehending a world outside the boundaries of my ego, which makes this simple; I could never blame him for any response.

What happened was not planned, but I did insist on this. It wasn’t just for me and my chance at finally being with him in the deepest of ways, but still: Leon lost himself that night, and in his despair, he surrendered because the relief I offered was what he needed.

I stare back at him. Those high cheekbones I’ve studied from every angle for years. The light tan of his cheeks, the barely-there stubble I caressed so lightly minutes ago. Kitten-soft and yet prickly. So perfect against my fingers.

Faded blues connect with my darker ones as he poses the question I didn’t think would be his first.

“Are you sure, baby?”

Baby.

My heart stumbles over the last word. It wants to trick me into crying. I get that he calls me “baby” when we’re intimate. When he was inside of me—or high on
my
high, like yesterday. But now, after what he just learned?

Leon—this situation—stirs so much in me. My brain does high-speed loops through everything I could possibly worry about. I think of how guys can’t always regulate what happens to the girl. How unfair the world is that I’m in control and Leon isn’t. I can decide to let this grow in me, whether to keep the baby or not. Hell, I could even lie about the father while all
he
can do is ask, “Is it mine?”

My stomach shifts.

Please. Not now.

I know what I want, what I’m doing from here on out. I won’t make up a prettier story even if he ends up hurt. Leon, this unrequited love of mine, deserves the truth.

I’m up from the chair, uncertain, and Leon’s there next to me, curling a hand around my neck and sweeping my head up in a light slant.

“Arria,” he repeats, “are you sure?”

Everyone knows the latest tests gives you certainty almost immediately. I confirm anyway: “Yes, Leon. I am.”

I bound to the bathroom. The plan is to lock myself in before the steamed rice I had for breakfast launches itself into the toilet. I don’t have time. A short hiccup interrupts my breathing before I gag again.

Leon isn’t following me. Not that I’d expected him to. Yeah, it would’ve been nice, but after my sobby phone call with Mom last night, I’m less worried. I can do this. Her biggest concern was for me to end up with someone who couldn’t love me the way I loved him. She nailed my fear on the first try.

Once I’m done heaving my anguish out, I get up and scour the bathroom and the bedroom beyond it. Instinctively, I chose his master en suite. Why?

I tiptoe into the den. The taste in my mouth soaks through the toothpaste I just ate. I feel gross. A glimpse at my watch reveals I have another eight hours at work with an hour until tonight’s staff arrives. The apartment shows no sign of Leon anywhere.

The father of my unborn child… took off.

Whatever. Between my unplanned confession and how worried I am over his reaction, I don’t have room for outrage. I’m mentally exhausted.

Honestly, if he ends up interested in the little one or me, my betrayal will be bigger. See, Leon left me alone while my body revolted against his baby. But I? After all that I have seen of this man—I know with one hundred percent certainty that Leon cannot be a part of our lives.

I retreat into his apartment instead of exiting. Through his bedroom door and into his bathroom again. I peek into Leon’s shower, the walls lined with crackled, jade tiles. I’ve only ever cleaned this space.

I could go home. It would have been easy to leave him a note, explaining that I’d be back before doors at the club. If I’d asked his permission, he’d give it immediately.

A part of me thinks I should stay, though. Soak up another shrivel of closeness with him. I have to learn how to shun this urge.

I keep the light off as I slide into his shower to wash up.

God, the scent in here. It smells like him. Musk, wrongness, pine… some sort of leathery goodness. I swallow. He’s around me, and he’s growing inside of me.

These are the things I need to stop thinking about. I have to focus forward, keep my head on straight. Feet on the ground.

As my mother said last night, “An intelligent, resourceful woman doesn’t need a husband to raise happy children.” She should know.

She’s right. She’s right.

I take my time washing up. The steam forms a foggy blanket that I step out into once I’m done. I retrieve a towel from under the sink and wrap it around me as the apartment door creaks.

My heart speeds up at his voice. “Arriane?” he calls out. I try to interpret his mood but can’t. It doesn’t sound different than any other time he’s said my name.

I swallow and stare at myself in the mirror. “Yes?” I reply. I blow out fast, wishing my pulse would slow down. “I’m in the bathroom.”

Now, he’ll finally ask if the baby is his. I have no reason to be upset when he blames me for not being careful. For ruining his life.

A quiet knock on the bathroom door prefaces the doorknob turning. Through the crack, he whispers “Hey,” like he’s afraid of waking me from sleep.

“Hey…” I say back, hugging the towel around me.

“I got you something.” Leon’s eyes shimmer. So beautiful. “I’m lacking a vital piece, but… Come out when you’re ready?”

It gets to me that he’s asking instead of telling me what to do. I bob my head in agreement. My heart, my heart.

I’m afraid of his gift. I can’t picture it being anything good.

Once I’m dressed, I sneak quietly out into the bedroom. It looks the same. Not one piece of clothing out of place, the bed perfectly made, and no Leon in sight. I inhale deeply, readying myself to move into the den. A whiff of some flowery perfume reaches me. Is someone else with him? Maybe Katsu has returned from her outing to the hospital. Unless. Lord, I hope it’s not the girl he flirted with downstairs last night. My body tenses, ready to haul ass out the door if that’s the case.

I enter the den quietly, leaning my head against the doorjamb on my way in, and my chest expands at the sight meeting me.

Leon.

He stands in the middle of the room with arms raised at his sides and palms up. His smile is so big on his face—I’ve never seen him like this.

Then, there’s the space around him.

The entire room is covered with cut flowers. Peonies, roses, daffodils, tulips—and tons I don’t even know the name of. I count ten huge bouquets in vases while the rest lies unopened on tables and windowsills. He’s got a heap on the kitchen island too, and a big salad bowl full of water next to them, probably thinking it’ll be a good vase.

I cover my mouth, but a surprised squeak escapes through my fingers. It takes him four steps to be in front of me, invading my space. Leon’s arms go around me, and—how could I object when he crushes me into him and rests his chin on my head?

“Arriane,” he murmurs, voice thick. “I know this isn’t the right way to do things. I’m sorry for being the biggest ass on the planet, and I’m sorry that I’m… making you carry my baby when we hadn’t planned it, but please—”

He pulls my hair together in a ponytail inside his fist and leans me out to meet his gaze. Despite the determined expression on his face, his eyes smile. “Baby,” he repeats from earlier, making my heart skip.

My poor heart,
I think feebly.
How much more can it take today?

“Even if I had planned to get married and start a family, I couldn’t have made a better choice than you. No one could be a better mother, and I’ll be the luckiest man in the world if you say ‘yes’ to what I’m about to ask you.”

I don’t think anymore. My brain has checked out. My knees understand, though, and go weak with the foreboding, because this—
this
—cannot be happening.

But then it does. It does happen, and Leon covers my mouth with his lips. They’re soft, sweet, and what I crave, before they let go and his crazy blues trap me again.

Fearless Leon, always so certain of himself. Now, he says, without bearing in mind our differences—without considering how I’m not what he needs, how he’s not what I—any wife—should live with: “Arriane, will you marry me?”

Arriane’s eyes widen with the same shock I experienced an hour ago.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how this happened, Leon?” is her non-answer.

“No. I was here, and I remember it vividly,” I say, stroking a long, sleek strand from one of her temples. She shuts her eyes for an instant, maybe reliving it too.

“Damn, Arriane,” I whisper into her ear. I revel in the sensation of her body against me. Someone tiny is in there, between us.

Fuck, this is
huge
.

“What about… if the baby is yours?” she says, then. The muscles in her back tighten as she draws out from me, steeling herself for my reply.

“Why should I ask that? Of all people, I trust you. You don’t sleep around, and you’d never broach this if you weren’t sure. No. I don’t need to ask you anything.”

She covers her face and slumps into me. It’s not relief or happiness. She’s not about to give me her “yes.” This body language is different and not one I want right now.

“Arria. Don’t mess with me.”

She pulls in a long drag of air through her nose, postponing whatever she’s wanting to say. Suddenly, it’s important that she only says what I want to hear.

While I picked up flowers, I imagined how it would be to have her in my bed every night. In my home, playing with my baby, perhaps a boy with her eyes and golden skin. She’d take care of us. And I’d be providing for them.

But she’s hesitant. She’s not sure about this.

What. The. Hell?

“Baby,” I whisper in a tone I only used right before I lost Pandora. “I didn’t want to leave you alone for too long, so I didn’t go to the jeweler. I’d like for you to come with me and pick out the best ring you can find.”

“Oh—” she says. Arriane’s voice is so low I barely hear the next words. They still register. “Sweetie. I can’t.”

I wish I could undo their impact on me.